The Legend of the Wh

Death is both an end and a new beginning. Flowers bloom and wither, cycling through endless renewal. All beings can only let go of attachments and accept the natural flow of things.,It's not that I deliberately forget my past life and abandon humanity. I spent twenty years struggling to survive in the brutal wilderness, fighting against enemies tooth and nail. Where would I find the time or the mood for melancholy The beauty you see is just a facade; the real forest is harsh and unforgiving.,The white snake, with her poor eyesight and hearing, had just missed an incredible sight. Other animals saw it clearly: thick, ink-colored clouds swirled relentlessly, lightning striking the peak of a mountain with all its might. A tiger with black and yellow stripes, a white blaze on its forehead, stood atop the mountain, roaring amidst the thunder and lightning. Its roar was filled with anger and unwillingness to submit. No matter how badly wounded, it remained proudly defiant, refusing to bow its head. A thunderbolt as thick as a water bucket struck down, leaving its wound blackened and bleeding profusely. It fell to the ground, unable to rise again, until finally, there was no sound left.。